rprised himself, for in his excitement he had struck
into a long swinging gait that compelled Will to his best efforts to
keep up.

At the square all was confusion. The Middleton "Home Guards" were there,
forty-eight in number, composed mostly of men who were too old for
service. There was not a leader among them.

Mr. Tevis forced his way into a room on the ground-floor of the
Court-house. Somebody held up his hand to enjoin silence.

"They are receiving a telegram from Dresden down the river," whispered
a short, pale-faced man, in Mr. Tevis's ear.

There was a single wire connecting Middleton with Dresden, twenty-one
miles to the westward. The nervous operator was translating the dots and
dashes into words.

"The-rebels-are-in-full-sight-now-entering-the-town.
The-home-guards-have-run-away." Then there was a pause.
"The-rebels-are-breaking-into-the-stores.
They-have-not-come-to-the-rail-way-station-yet."

"He is a brave man to stick to his post so," said Mr. Tevis, out loud.

"Hush," said the pale-faced man; "here he comes again."

"Tick-a-tick," began the instrument.
"A-battery-of-artillery-is-with-them. They-are-here-at-the-station. I--"
The instrument stopped suddenly.

"Something has happened," said the operator, breathlessly.

"Call him up," said some one.

"He does not answer," said the operator, after a few minutes. But as he
spoke a slow ticking came from the receiver.

"Hello!" it spelled, laboriously.

"That isn't Jed Worth," said the operator. "Some one else has got hold
of the wire."

"Hold on; ask who it is," said Mr. Tevis.

Then an idea came in Will Tevis' head, and he spoke up. "Ask if it is
Frank," he said.

"What for?" inquired the operator, with his fingers on the key.

"Because if they answer yes, you will know they are trying to fool you,"
he said.

There was a murmur of approval.

"Is-that-you-Frank?" telegraphed the operator.

"Yes," came the unhesitating answer.

"Ask him if he has seen anything of the Rebs," suggested Mr. Tevis.

"No," was the response to this inquiry, "not one."

"He's a pretty good liar," said the pale-faced man, half to himself. The
instrument began to work again.

"Are there any troops at Middleton," slowly asked the Reb operator down
the line.

An answer was clicked back hastily.

"I told him that we had a regiment and two batteries of artillery,"
whispered the young man at the desk, smiling.

"Why under the sun didn't you make it an a